The Face of a Nightmare
by LavaMoon
Summary: A theft at a high tech company. A case with a horrible twist. A friendship left in tatters. CHAPTER 4 UPLOADED.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Universal Studios owns Knight Rider and all its characters. I'm not making any money on this -- it's just for fun.

Author's Notes: This story takes place after the series, but it was written as though the events of Season 4 never happened. No SPM, no convertible mode, no RC, not even the storylines.

As you can probably tell from the first scene, this is going to be a dark story. Nothing too graphic, but it will go into some violent places. I originally posted this with an M rating, but I didn't know that M stories are not included in the default 'sort by' settings on the main page. For right now, it's safely a T, but that will change in a few chapters. When that happens, I'll change the rating back to an M, but if you don't want to read M-rated stories, then you probably want to skip this one altogether. I just wanted people to see it and right now it is a T, so I hope this is okay.

**The Face of a Nightmare**

The scars were raised welts of ugly, reddened skin. They crossed at the wrists in chilling T's – the unmistakable sign of someone who was serious. There was no pretending that their owner had been crying out for help or that there had been any intent other than complete self-destruction. They spoke volumes without saying a word. But that wasn't quite right. They didn't speak. They screamed.

Long sleeves kept them hidden most of the time, but he often caught a glimpse of them anyway -- a little bit of horror to shake him to the core on otherwise unremarkable days. And they never failed to show themselves as soon as he'd decided that they had faded into the past -- that everyone had moved on. He'd be minding his own business and they'd slip out from under a shirt cuff wielding their ability to destroy him. They were dissonant, demanding, and devastating. They would never really fade.

The scars were jagged -- the imperfect knitting together of brutalized skin -- but the actual cuts themselves had not been. They had been deep and unhesitating, the product of complete despair. He tried not to dwell on that. It tore him up too much, left him bleeding in places no one could see.

The cuts had let everything flow out. They had been an attempt to empty their host of blood, pain, and life itself.

But the scars seemed to have the opposite effect -- at least on him. They were a force that cut _him_ open and let everything flow in.

Anger.

Betrayal.

And most of all, guilt.

* * *

There was a spring in Michael's step as he strolled into Devon's office. For a change he had actually gotten a vacation. He and Kitt had spent two full weeks surfing, rocking climbing, and sailing. Devon hadn't even found any excuses to interrupt them. After two weeks, Michael was actually feeling energized and ready to face the world. Or at least he thought he was, but the look of perplexed concern on Devon's face was enough to sober him up a bit. 

"Hey, Devon. What's up?"

"Ah, Michael. Did you enjoy your vacation?" Devon looked up from the folder on his desk, smiling politely, but he sounded distracted.

"Yeah, yeah, I did. I gotta do that more often." He couldn't help needling just a little bit. "But Kitt said you have a new case for us?"

"Hmmm, perhaps." Devon shuffled through some of the papers in the folder until he found what he was looking for. "Have you heard of Electro-Optic Enterprises?"

Michael shrugged. "No. It doesn't ring a bell. Why?"

"They make lasers as well as various lasing media," Devon said, pursing his lips.

"You lost me. What do you mean by lasing media?"

Devon leaned forward and gestured with his pen in a way that made him look like a lecturing professor about to make a point that was sure to be on the final exam. "A laser consists of three main parts – an optical cavity, a pump, and the lasing medium. Energy is passed from the pump into the optical cavity to excite the medium which results in the beam of photons we think of as a laser."

"Okay. So they make the substances that go into lasers."

"Not exactly precise, but essentially true," Devon said, leaning back again. "Lasing media are the heart of a laser and Electro-Optic Enterprises is one of the leading designers of new media in the industry."

"And they're having some sort of problem?" Michael asked, leisurely leaning against the corner of Devon's desk.

"Quite right. There was a break in at their facility. Several of their lasers and lasing media designs were stolen."

"And you want me and Kitt to look into it?"

Devon frowned slightly. "This is really only a hunch. It may simply be a case for the local authorities."

"But you think there's something worth investigating?" Michael guessed.

Devon set his pen down and gave him his full attention. "Electro-Optic Enterprises is the company that designed the lasing medium for the laser we built to destroy Karr. It's one of the designs that was stolen. It may just be coincidence. . ."

"But better safe than sorry." Michael could see why Devon was uncomfortable with this. If it was a coincidence, fine, but he didn't like the idea of someone having the components to build a laser capable of harming his partner. "We'll look into it, Devon. If there doesn't seem to be a connection to the Foundation, we'll let the police handle it."

"Good. I've asked Bonnie to program Kitt with all the relevant information. If there's anything else you need, don't hesitate to call."

"Thanks, Devon. I'll let you know what we find."

Michael left the office in search of his partner. He couldn't help the tinge of unease that had crept into the back of his mind. He hoped this turned out to be nothing, a waste of time, but he had a hunch that it wasn't going to be that easy.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

See Chapter 1 for disclaimers. Also, the technical information about lasers came from Sam's Laser FAQ website.

* * *

Bonnie was just in the process of shutting down her computer and unplugging Kitt from the charging rack when Michael appeared in the garage.

"Hey, Bonnie, how are you?" he asked, giving her a quick hug.

"Good. How was your vacation?" She had to admit that it had been a little bit quiet around the Foundation without the two of them. She'd put the time to good use – working on some unfinished components for Kitt – but she was glad they were back.

"I survived. Tough job, but someone has to do it," he said with mock seriousness.

Bonnie grinned despite herself. "Speaking of which, you had Kitt a whole two weeks and there's no appreciable damage. I'm impressed."

It had the intended effect. Michael rolled his eyes and scoffed at her. "It usually takes rocket launchers or explosives to damage him. We try to avoid those on vacation."

"Good to know that you do actually try to avoid them on special occasions," she snarked.

"Very funny," Michael groaned, and then leaned against the nearest work bench. "Devon said that you programmed Kitt with information for the new case?"

Kitt answered that one. "Yes, Michael. I'm now an expert on Electro-Optic Enterprises and their lasers. It's really fascinating, Michael. Did you know that the output power of a CO2 laser can be as high as 30 kilowatts?"

"Ah, no, but I trust you're going to tell me all about it on the drive out there," he said, laughing.

"Why do I get the impression that you just don't appreciate me, Michael?"

"Must be your suspicious nature, pal." Michael turned back to Bonnie. "I do have a question, though. I thought Knight Industries built the laser that was used on Karr."

"We did. Or at least we assembled it. We built the laser, which needs a liquid dye to operate. Electro-Optic Enterprises designed the dye for us. We provided them with a list of specifications and requirements and they came up with the right chemicals. We also built the electronics that controlled the firing mechanism," she explained.

"Okay, so what do you think about this case? Does Devon have reason to be concerned?"

She shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not sure. If I were out to harm Kitt, I wouldn't bother with the laser we used. We had to go with a dye laser at the time because it was the only way to get the frequency and power we needed. Dye lasers are tunable. But there have been a lot of advancements in the technology since then. They could steal something a lot more powerful now." Bonnie gave him a little smile. "Besides, that laser won't work on Kitt anymore."

Michael was obviously caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

"After your second encounter with Karr, I designed some filters to protect his scanner."

"What kind of filters?" Michael asked.

"The scanner can't be covered with the MBS because it needs to be able to take in information from the outside world. It needs a way to 'see' for lack of a better word. But the laser contains a specific wavelength of light. There's now a treated glass filter in front of the scanner that blocks that wavelength."

"Okay, why not make a filter that protects him from all lasers."

"Because of the filter, Kitt can't see any information at that wavelength. I figured it was a reasonable trade off for the one laser that we knew could hurt him. But lasers come in wavelengths from UV to visible to IR. It would defeat the purpose of the scanner to filter everything out."

"Okay. It's good to hear that he's protected from the design that was stolen anyway. But the sooner we start investigating, the sooner we'll know if there's really anything to worry about. Catch you later," he said, squeezing her shoulder as he headed over to Kitt.

Bonnie tried not to roll her eyes as he backed up sharply, locked the wheels, and spun the car around just outside the garage. She wondered if that man ever did a conventional three point turn.

* * *

Electro-Optic Enterprises, EOE, was a lot smaller than Michael expected. It was tucked away in a suburban industrial complex of single story brick buildings. He waited in a tiny vestibule, bare except for a potted plant, for the receptionist to buzz him in. Devon had already called with the Foundation's concerns so he was immediately introduced to the head of the company -- a button down type with a white shirt and red tie.

"I'm Paul Carter," he said, shaking Michael's hand briskly.

"Michael Knight. I was hoping I could talk to you about the theft."

"Of course. Devon Miles said you'd be investigating." Carter led the way to an office in the corner of the building. As they passed by cubicles and desks, Michael was surprised at how normal everything looked. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been a standard office building.

"What can I do to help?" Carter asked.

"You could start out by telling me what exactly was taken." Michael glanced around the spacious office. It looked as though EOE was doing well - the computer on Carter's desk looked new, and there was a framed magazine with a cover story about the company hanging on the wall behind him.

"The thieves got most of our high powered laser designs and a few pieces of actual hardware. Clearly they knew what they were after. The designs for several laser dyes were taken, two CO2 prototypes are missing, and three experimental solid state lasers are gone as well."

"How dangerous are they?"

"They're lasers, not weapons, Mr. Knight. The prototypes stolen were all Class IV lasers so they'll do significant eye damage, can cause skin burns, and could start fires. But this isn't Star Trek. They're mostly used for metal cutting, range finding, and other industrial applications."

Despite this man's reassurances, Michael wondered what would be needed to turn them into weapons. Even if they weren't particularly useful against people, Kitt was still vulnerable and he'd been attacked by a laser before. "Would you mind showing me where you stored the prototypes?"

"Of course. We keep everything in the lab."

Carter led the way through the office area and pushed open a door. Michael immediately realized just how misleading the rest of the office was. The lab was an entirely different world. This was obviously the guts of the operation. There were mirrors and lenses bolted down to a very heavy metal-topped table that was taking up the bulk of the room. "Our optics bench," the man said. "This is where we do most of our testing and where the stolen prototypes were."

"Do you have a production floor where you make your lasers?"

"Oh, we don't produce them. We're strictly a research company. Normally we work with other companies who actually plan to build the lasers. We do the development and testing, and then sell the rights for production."

He led Michael through another door which still had the remnants of policed tape on the edges. The room was crowded with tanks of chemicals and enough beakers, bottles, and pipettes to make Michael feel like he was back in high school chemistry.

"This is where we test out dye prototypes." Carter paused and then pointed to a set of file cabinets in the back. "We keep all the results of our testing along with the chemical formulas in these cabinets. Whoever did this knew what they were looking for. They obviously knew how to interpret results and only took the successful dyes."

Michael thought about that a moment. "Devon said that you were given a set of requirements for the dye that you developed for the Foundation."

"Yes. If I remember correctly, you had some very unique frequency and power specifications."

"Were those requirements stolen as well as the dye design?"

Carter eyed him a moment and then pulled opened a drawer in the nearest file cabinet. Michael noticed that the lock had been mangled. After a minute or two of flipping through the folders, he pulled one out and displayed the empty contents for Michael. "It appears so."

"How about some of the other designs? Were the specifications for those designs stolen as well?"

Carter scoured through the files a bit more. "Yes, it looks like everything in those folders was taken. Which makes sense -- if whoever stole the designs is hoping to sell them or use them, they'll want as much information as possible."

Michael nodded absentmindedly. "You said the thieves knew what to take. Have you had any problems with disgruntled employees, or rival companies?"

"There's turnover here of course, but as far as I know, no one left angry." Carter shook his head. "It's possible that someone stole the designs to either get into the business or get a leg up on us, but I don't know of anyone in particular who would resort to out and out theft. It would be a lot less risky to buy a design from us and reverse engineer it."

"Okay. Anything else you can think of?"

"I'm sorry. Like I told the police, I really don't know who could have done this."

"Okay. Thank you for your time."

Michael shook Carter's hand and followed him back out into the office. He left the building with a lingering unease. There was nothing that pointed to anything other than industrial espionage, but something felt off about this case.


	3. Chapter 3

Michael left EOE feeling distracted as he turned the details of the case over in his head. He must have looked as out of it as he felt because Kitt opened the door for him as he approached the car.

"How did it go?" Kitt asked.

"I'm not sure, pal. It may just be coincidence, but the thief or thieves did take the specifications that the Foundation provided EOE."

"That is a bit disconcerting."

"Yeah. So how about you? Did your scanners pick up anything interesting?"

"Not inside, Michael. But there's a woman who appears to be watching the building."

Michael kept his head straight but his eyes immediately began sweeping the area, looking for her.

"There's a silver BMW parked in a stall 200 feet from our current position. She's been here as long as we have, and other than using a pay phone, she hasn't left the car.

Michael slowly turned, glancing only briefly in the direction of the suspicious vehicle. "Did you trace the call?"

"No. She made it shortly after we arrived so it didn't strike me as unusual. I assumed she was waiting for someone."

"She still could be."

"Yes, but she seems to be attempting to be clandestine about it. She's been ducked down in the car most of the time and I've scanned her vitals -- she appears to be rather nervous about something."

Michael nodded. "Run the plates. See if anything interesting pops up. In the meantime, let's take a drive around the block and see what happens."

Michael put the car in gear and they pulled out of their parking space.

"She just started her engine." Kitt informed him.

"It certainly didn't take long to draw attention, did it pal?"

"It would appear not."

They pulled out of the parking lot and turned a corner. They had barely gone half a block when Kitt said, "Michael, the woman pulled out of her parking space. I'd suggest continuing straight so that she can follow us if that's her intent."

"A very good idea, pal."

They drove slowly through a traffic light, careful that she would have time to make it through as well.

"Still following, huh?" Michael observed as he spotted the car in the rearview mirror again.

"Yes."

"Okay, pal, she wants to chase us, I suggest we let her. Let's lure her to a less crowded area and find out what this is all about."

Kitt displayed the shortest route to a two-lane county highway that led out of town. Michael was driving, keeping their speed constant while Kitt manipulated the traffic lights so that their mystery tail didn't have too much trouble keeping up with them. The strip malls and residences quickly gave way to more and more vacant lots. The street went from six lanes to four to two and then began to curve through the scraggy hills.

"She's not very good at tailing," Michael said with another glance in the mirror. Even without Kitt's abilities he would have noticed her by now. She was way too obvious. "Kitt, you aren't detecting any weapons in the car are you?"

"No, Michael. She does seem to have a pocketknife on her person, but that appears to be the extent of it."

"Let's bring this to an end and find out what she's up to. Where's the next turn off?"

"It's half a mile to the right. There's a narrow road that leads to the subdivision up on the hill closest to us.

Michael glanced at the precariously situated houses in a cluster along the edge. "Perfect."

He slowed the car, and signaled as the BMW came into sight around a corner. Michael turned and was surprised when the BMW didn't follow. It continued around the bend of the hill.

"Kitt?" he asked slowly.

"She's turning around and heading back this way as we speak."

Michael grinned. "Gotcha." They went a little further up the hill and then Michael turned sharply, leaving the Trans Am blocking both lanes of the narrow road.

"Here she comes, Michael."

The BMW came around the bend and the driver was obviously surprised to see the Trans Am sitting there. She slammed on her brakes and skidded to a halt. To Michael's surprise, she flew out of the vehicle and started shouting at him.

"What the hell are you doing? You could've gotten me killed!"

Michael got of the car, using his height to tower over her. The blonde woman didn't seem at all impressed or deterred. "I'm just curious why you're following me," he said.

"I'm not following you! What are you talking about?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest defensively and glared at him. She was young, but hard-looking. Her features were sharp and there was a scar running along her cheek. Her t-shirt was yellowing and her jeans were covered with a not-so-fine layer of dirt. She looked much too bedraggled to be driving a BMW.

"Come on. You were hanging out in the parking lot outside Electro-Optic Enterprises and you've been following me since I left."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I was waiting for this bitch that's cheating with my boyfriend. I was going to tell her how it is."

"Oh really? Then why'd you leave?"

"Because I was hoping to see her, but I don't know when the bitch works. I figured since she didn't leave with the rest of the jerks in her office, she wasn't there today."

"Uh-huh. So what are you doing following me up here?" he asked, gesturing to the houses above them.

"I live up here."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Right. Like you own this car. Who'd you steal it from?"

"No one. It's my boyfriend's."

"Oh? The same one who's cheating on you?" Michael asked with a raised brow.

She glowered at him. "Yeah. So?"

"Boyfriend got a name?"

"What're you a cop or something?"

"Or something. What's his name?"

The woman stood her ground. "I don't have to tell you nothing. I didn't do nothing wrong."

"I'd like to believe you, but your story doesn't add up. And if I find out you've been lying to me, I'll be back." Michael turned and marched back to Kitt, completely frustrated. "What do you think, pal?"

"According to her vitals, she was lying much of the time, but the car hasn't been reported stolen. It's registered to a Jake Simon of 426 Seneca Lane, Apartment 2E."

"Good work, buddy. Maybe we should have a talk with him. And see if you can't get an ID on our friend here," he said, tilting his head toward the blonde.

"Of course."

He put the car into reverse and cleared one lane. The BMW flew past them up the road and disappeared around the bend.

* * *

Michael and Kitt drove back into town as the sun set behind them. Kitt plotted a course to Jake Simon's apartment as he continued trying to identify the woman who'd been following them. Michael was driving but Kitt could tell he was distracted, so he was monitoring the road, ready to step in if necessary. 

"You're concerned about the case aren't you?" Kitt asked, knowing his partner's silences.

Michael nodded slight. "Yeah, pal, I am. Something doesn't feel right."

"A hunch?"

Michael snorted softly, "Something like that. There are just too many pieces that aren't added up to anything."

They arrived at the apartment complex on Seneca Lane. The stucco buildings all had large balconies overlooking a perfectly manicured courtyard and pool, complete with a waterfall and natural rock landscaping.

"Looks like an expensive place, pal."

"It is. According to my information, these are very high-end apartments."

"Fits with the BMW but not the dirty jeans and ratty t-shirt, huh?"

"Yes, Michael."

"Well, let's see if Mr. Simon can shed some more light on what's going on here."

Kitt watched carefully as Michael approached the door. He knocked and stepped back, casually rocking on his heels. When no one answered the door, Michael activated his comlink.

"Kitt, is there anyone home?"

Kitt scanned the apartment. "I'm afraid not."

"Anything unusual inside?"

"Not that my scanners are detecting." Kitt was momentarily distracted when he got a hit on a possible match to the woman they met earlier.

"Okay." He started to back away from the door.

"Would you like me to open it?" Kitt asked.

Michael hesitated. "Nah. We don't have any evidence that this guy's even involved. For all we know, his car was stolen while was he was on vacation. I think it's a little premature for breaking and entering."

"Since when have you let that stop you?" Kitt needled. He just caught the tail end of his partner's eye roll as Michael strolled back down the sidewalk and rejoined him.

"Wise guy," he groused when he got to the car.

"You'll be happy to know I have some information that might shed some light on the situation. I've identified our mystery stalker."

"Good work, pal. Who is she?"

Kitt displayed the mug shot on his video monitor. "Her name is Christy Hetherman, and she's no stranger to the police."

"So I see. That's quite a rap sheet. Any highlights?"

"She was just released from the California Institute for Women. She was incarcerated for grand theft auto, but she's had previous run-ins with the justice system -- forgery, assault and battery, theft, and disturbing the peace."

"Sounds like a peach. Anything else? So far she doesn't sound much like a high-tech thief."

"No. Decidedly low-tech. According to her parole information, she's thirty years old with no family to speak of, she's in between jobs, and she's working toward a GED."

Michael sighed. "You're sure the BMW wasn't stolen?"

"It wasn't reported as stolen, no."

"This still doesn't make sense, but she's our only lead. Do you have an address?"

"Yes."

"Okay, let's go."


	4. Chapter 4

Michael and Kitt were sitting outside Christy's apartment. It was a dilapidated place, and even in the dark, Kitt could tell that it was old and ill cared-for. The sidewalk in front of the building was cracked and losing an epic battle with knee-high weeds. The porch that held the building's one dim source of light was listing dangerously, and the wooden steps appeared to be rotting.

Michael had no issues with breaking into Christy's home, and had thoroughly scoured the apartment, but he hadn't found anything suspicious. They'd been casing the place since, waiting for Christy to return.

"What do you think, pal? Did she make up with her 'cheating boyfriend?'" Michael asked.

"I couldn't say, but I would certainly rather stay at his apartment than this one."

Michael smirked. "I'll second that."

Kitt was about to comment on the less-than-cleanly interior when he received a familiar signal. "Michael, Devon's calling."

"Hey, Devon, what's up?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing. Any progress on the case?"

"I'm afraid not. We attracted some attention when we went to EOE today. But so far all we've got are a few leads on someone who may or may not be involved. Other than that, we don't have much to go on."

"The police haven't made much progress either. The thief knew where the security cameras were hidden and stayed out of their field of view, I'm afraid."

"I assume the police didn't find any prints then either, huh?"

"No. I would assume that an intruder smart enough to avoid security cameras also knew to wear gloves."

Michael sighed. "There's just not a lot to go on right now."

"Are you thinking of leaving the case to the local authorities?"

Michael cocked his head to the side. "Devon, I just have a feeling there's more here than meets the eye. I can't really explain it, but I'd like to talk to the woman who followed us one more time. Maybe you can look into Christy Hetherman? See if you can find any connection to EOE?"

"Of course, Michael. I take it you'll be staying in Santa Maria then?"

"For now."

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

"I won't, Devon. Thanks."

Kitt disconnected the link. "How long do you plan on waiting here for Christy?"

"It's only 9:30. Let's give it a while and see if she comes home."

* * *

It was late, but Bonnie was in the middle of trying to solve a problem, and she'd always had a hard time calling it a night when her mind was wrapped around a puzzle. When there was a problem sitting in front of her waiting for an answer, she just couldn't let go of it. Besides, late at night was the best time for tackling things like this. The garage was quiet – there were no other technicians staying late, no interruptions, and Kitt didn't even need tending to tonight. She was free to crunch on her quandary as long as she wanted.

There had to be some way to protect Kitt from a wider variety of lasers. It was a problem they'd tried to tackle before, after the incident with Karr, but there were just so many different frequencies to consider that she couldn't filter them all out. Kitt's sense of sight was vastly different than a human's and he could only be blinded to a few frequencies that weren't very useful to begin with. With a tunable dye laser, the number of frequencies that could do him harm was almost unlimited.

She sighed and looked at the high tensile reflectors again. That was a catch twenty-two. Michael had gotten lucky when he anticipated Karr's shot, but that was all it was -- luck. If she could make a set of HTRs for the scanner, they could deflect a laser shot over a broad spectrum of wavelengths, but it would make his scanner completely blind. If he could see that a laser was about to be fired, he could activate it, a little like a camera shutter, but once he did, he wouldn't have any clue what was happening. So he couldn't preemptively activate it. And once the laser beam had been fired it was too late -- there was no way she could compete with the speed of light.

Frustrated, Bonnie pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail and decided, against her better judgment, that coffee would be helpful. She had a feeling she wouldn't be able to fall asleep anyway.

She got up and headed over to the little kitchen. She was pouring water when she thought she heard something. Bonnie turned off the tap and listened to the distinctive sound of footsteps clacking across the smooth concrete floor. "Hello?" she called out and popped her head around the corner, assuming it was one of the other technicians.

There was a lone person walking towards her. He waved.

"Hi. What are you doing here?" she asked, a little bit surprised.

* * *

Curtis had been on the night shift for the Foundation's security detail for two and a half months. It had taken some getting used to, but all in all, he was happier working nights. On the dayshift he'd had to deal with the constant coming and going of Foundation employees, as well as people in to attend this, that, or the other event. Then there were the caterers and the cleaning folks and the deliveries. On days, there was normally a lot of hustle and bustle. At night it was calmer, more peaceful. And occasionally he even got to nap.

Not tonight though. There had been steady traffic in and out of the main gate and they were having trouble with the security cameras. In particular, there were a few of them that went snowy and Brian, his partner, had gone to investigate. Then the camera covering the main gate had gotten an old newspaper blown into it, covering the lens. That happened from time to time -- when the wind blew just right, trash that got out of the dumpsters tended to blow right at the camera. He had gone out and cleared that off. But it was just one of those full-moon kind of nights so he was trying to make sure he was paying attention.

He never would have noticed otherwise.

The garage was large and they probably didn't have enough cameras covering it. The movement was subtle and what caught his eye was the absence of something that should have been there. He knew that Dr. Barstow had been working late and he had just been able to see her shoulder when she was sitting at her computer. But at some point she had disappeared. At first he'd assumed that she had just gotten up for something, but when she didn't come back, he studied the screen more closely. It wasn't the same shot. The camera must have gotten knocked to the right so that it was looking at the back part of the garage instead of its normal view, looking across the middle. Curtis was about to open up the control software in order to turn it back remotely, when the camera began to pan by itself.

Slowly a figure started to come into view. Someone was lying on the floor. And . . .

Curtis swallowed sharply.

There was someone curled into a ball on the floor in the middle of the garage.

Curtis picked up his radio, his throat suddenly too dry to talk. "Brian, this is Curtis. Do you read me?" he managed to croak. "Are you anywhere near the garage?"

"Yeah, I decided to do rounds since the cameras have been so flaky tonight, why?"

"Get over there now." Curtis said, hearing the panic in his own voice. He watched in horror as the figure moved and something caught a reflection from the overhead lights.

"Brian, get over there! Dr. Barstow's -"

Shit. What to say.

"She's hurt!"

* * *

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews! You're too kind. 

Just to let you know, this is the last chapter that will be at a T rating. The next time I update, I'm going to have to change it to an M. This means that this story won't show up on the default page view (the default only shows stories rated K through T), so you'll have to change the filter to include the M rated stories to find it.

Again, thank you very much for reading!

Lava


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